


Not Suitable for Children

by alwayswritewithcoffee



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Feathers & Featherplay, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayswritewithcoffee/pseuds/alwayswritewithcoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Childhood fun takes a dirty twist during a Hamptons weekend for Castle and Beckett.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Suitable for Children

**Author's Note:**

> Set between season 5 and 6 and basically porn without plot. May become more than one chapter, but classified as a one-shot for now.

“Are you scared?” he poses the question with a suggestive dance of his eyebrows, their flicking up and down, wiggling back and forth in glee only rivaling that of the sparkle in his eyes. 

“No,” Kate huffs, fingers carding through her hair. The humidity and the heavy presence of sea salt in the air have made her carefully styled curls into more of a kinky mop, the sort that she really only gets when there has been a weekend off and she lets her hair dry naturally or when they come to the Hamptons.

But Castle likes it that way, how the light plays differently over the blend of colors, the blonde strands seeming to disappear leaving only the chocolate and mocha that reminds him of a time when she already had his heart, but they were stubbornly dancing around it. Plus it’s a little wild, giving Kate an untamed appearance that the more primal part of him craves because it’s the side he truly only sees when she becomes a predator, stalking him with those long limbs and a sway of her hips that have almost killed him on more than on occasion. 

But what a way to go. 

“Beckett, you are, you are scared to play with me. Scared you’ll lose,” he’s openly taunting her, fingers dancing over the soft skin of her legs, dipping into the crease behind her knee, under the hem of the sinfully tiny shorts she’d thrown on for their lazy afternoon. 

Castle knows he has her when her eyes narrow, one hand lifting to swat at the two fingers marking a path up the inside of her thigh. It takes all he has not to smile, to absolutely crow with delight when she hisses at him, demands he get the box so she can prove him wrong. 

They’ve only played once, a quick game on their second weekend away. Quick because neither of them had learned patience in denying one another completion or had the luxury of time with his nosy mother and curious daughter sharing the house. But the memory of their naughty board game is seared onto his brain and, if faced with an indefinite period of time without her once she moves to D.C., Castle wants plenty of memories to stave off the sure to be lonely nights. 

Might as well go out with a bang. A kinky, board game prompted bang. 

The box is in the same place he left it, shoved underneath a pile of sweaters in the closet. Sweaters he rarely needs with a house primarily occupied in the summer months. But between the cards and the other items nestled within the plastic tub, they had agreed to proceed with caution. 

By the time the game has been arranged, board in the center of the coffee table, money dished out, glasses of wine poured, he’s buzzing with excitement and though Kate is trying her best to look unaffected, he can read her. The small clench of her fingers around the glass stem, the way her thighs press together as she shifts on the floor, she’s humming with expectation and, as he gives a roll of the dice, Castle finds himself hoping for a railroad or water works.

Oh, the electric company. That’d be an excellent start. 

As it is, he comes up short of the twelve needed, the dice falling halfway at six to place him solidly on Oriental Avenue. So close, yet so very far, he thinks, even as Kate (she’d insisted on being the banker, to prevent him from cheating) passes over the deed for the sky blue block.

Her roll is similarly disappointing, if only because Connecticut Avenue both leaves him frustrated at the true object of the game and robs him of collecting a full set of the three - Oriental, Vermont, and Connecticut. And he also knows that Kate largely bought it just to spite him, that purse of her lips and twinkle in her eyes screaming her amusement far more than any verbal taunt. 

“You’re forgetting something,” she adds once the dice are caught in his palm, a smile dancing across the top of her wine glass as Kate takes a slow drink, licking the stray liquid from her lips, “Whoever rolls a smaller number has to remove a piece of clothing of the other’s choosing. A rule you instated when I didn’t get naked fast enough last time.” 

Castle goes for the shirt, hem clutched in his hand and halfway towards his head before she clears her throat, gives him the most subtle shake of her head, “No, Castle, I want the pants.” And her voice carries a huskiness to it that shoots straight to his groin, at least half the blood in his body going due south as he follows her instructions, shucks out of the shorts he’d put on when they’d gone searching for lunch. 

With the stripping portion taken care of, he rolls the dice a bit carelessly, grunting when the damn things give him an eight - one spot from the Electric Company, what a tease - on a magenta patch of cardboard called Sates Avenue. Of course he buys the thing, because real estate is how you win in Monopoly, with the same disgruntled noise, slapping the money into Kate’s hand as she grins, one long leg extending under the table so that her toes brush against his inner thigh. 

“Poor thing,” she trills, teeth holding firm against her lower lip, toes lightly pressing into his skin while she rolls the dice a second time to determine her destination. Irony dictates that its States Avenue after drawing a four. ‘Son of a —“ Kate sighs, glaring at the dice like they’ve personally insulted her, even as she plucks the required rent from her pile of money, slides it over to the man across from her. 

And she removes her shirt, as Castle requests, foot inching higher towards his crotch all the while. Kate’s toes just slide underneath the edge of his boxers as he releases the dice for his turn, the toss going a bit wild with his jerk of surprise. Somehow he manages a seven, skirting the remaining tiles on the left side of the board with his scottie dog game piece, the silver animal resting firmly on the red car that advertises ‘Free Parking’ at the corner of the board. 

She’s on her feet before he even asks, warm body perched on his lap before he’s had time to gather a breath. Not that it matters because it all rushes out of him once Kate takes a seat, giving one slow twist of her hips that has Castle clutching at her waist, “What do you want, Castle? Ten minutes of it, starting now.” 

He hears the timer next to the board begin to click, seconds slipping by with his arms full of his beautiful fiancé and a half hard situation happening below, “Touch yourself, I want to watch,” he says against her ear, grinning as Kate lets out a little moan, hips rocking into his with a bit more insistency. 

It takes a beat before she follows his instruction, sliding back from the bulge inserting itself between her legs to settle against his thighs, fingers dancing through her hair, across her shoulders and neck, nails creating thin white lines against her chest. But Kate bypasses her breasts at the last second, skimming down to explore the smooth skin of her abdomen, fingertips dipping under the waistband of her shorts and against the pale skin of her thighs. A complete tease, equally sexy due to the mystery and infuriating because she’s messing with him on purpose, defiant till the absolute end. 

“Breasts, Kate. Touch them,” he tells her, his left hand darting forward to hold her in place, eyes dark and hungry when she grins at him, holding both mounds in her palms for a beat before one long finger slides under the black lace. From the motion he can make out from under the fabric, he knows she’s circling the peak, that once he manages to get her bra off of her that they will both be hard pebbles, dark pink in color and begging for his lips to latch on and suck.

She’s just traded sides, given him a breathy little grunt that drives him insane when he unties the satin drawstring of her shorts, pulls them down past the curve of her ass. “Move those,” he says softly, grinning at the lust that has turned her green eyes almost black, completely sure that it’s reflected in his own blue when he curls one finger along the single band that stretches over her hip and connects the front and back of her underwear. 

“Why?” Kate’s a little breathless when she asks, her fingers already underneath the two thin straps, the lacy bit sliding down her hips to reveal nothing but the pale expanse of her skin and smell of just how much she’s enjoying their game. 

“Because you have four minutes left,” Castle says, placing one kiss to the hard line of her jaw, “And I want to see you, watch you do all the things that you want me to do.”

“Those are the rules,” she replies, aware that the object of the game is to outlast the other person with ever increasing foreplay. But this….it feels like cheating in all the best ways possible as Kate reaches down to lightly stroke herself, hips jerking forward in time with her moan when a finger skims over her clit in a tight circle.

And its two minutes of carefully controlled ministrations, Kate’s heart beating furiously in her chest as she alternates between the quick little strokes that make her hips thrash, and the long, slow caresses that draw full, throaty groans from her throat as her fingers curl against her inner walls. Those are the ones that remind her of Castle, of how fully he can stretch and push her, find that spot that her fingers aren’t long enough to reach even when buried to the hilt.

But for as much as her fingers are lacking, it’s more than enough with Castle’s dark eyes on her, his fingers floating and sliding across her skin as sweat begins to form in the creases and valleys of her body. The object of their game is to hold out, to spend ages teasing one another, but she can feel the pressure building between her legs, her nerves pressing tighter together in preparation for a white hot surge that Kate knows will be intense. And she’s torn between losing the game and letting herself fly, a sob caught in her throat as a wave of pleasure rolls through her body, her hips frantically chasing the friction from the heel of her palm as it rubs against the small bundle of nerves. 

“Just hold on,” Castle’s whispering in her ear, kissing the thin skin under her earlobe, his hands bracketing her hips as she moans in protest, hips bucking in wild pattern that’s mirror by the steady press and push of her fingers between her legs. Even if she wanted to stop, Kate’s not sure she could, the edge of the cliff swimming in front of her vision if she can just — 

The timer sounds in the second before her body finds its release, and Castle is lightning quick to respond, pulling her hands from her wet center, kissing her soundly on the mouth as she shakes from the impending release and its sudden denial. “I hate you,” she hisses, pupils wide and dark, when he dips a tongue out to taste what glistens from her fingers, completely thorough in licking them clean, each pass and suck of his mouth leaving a grunt of want slipping from her mouth. 

“Do not,” he says easily, tugging both her underwear and shorts back to their original position, and laughing openly when Kate squirms at the added wetness that coats the two layers of fabric. 

When she returns to her side of the coffee table, she proceeds to drink half her glass of wine and flop uselessly against the front of the couch before Castle reminds her that its her roll. 

“Shit, Castle, you think I ever remember there is a game right now?” Kate’s retort is icy, her glare completely frustrated and turned on when she reaches for the two white cubes and half-heartedly tosses them onto the board. 

Ten spaces. Indiana Avenue, where it takes all of her willpower not to swear when she drops the car onto the appropriate space. It’s only once Castle has rolled another seven that she realizes she forgot to buy the damn lot and demand he take off his shirt, prompting another urge to fall into a string of swears. She’s hopelessly turned on, literally shaking with the need to find release, and now she’s losing the damn game on top of it.

She barely gives him time to pay for Ventnor Avenue, telling him to sort through the stack of properties himself in favor of rolling the dice for her turn. Twelve spaces, landing on a Community Chest that has Kate almost sobbing in relief. Community Chest means she gets to draw a card, demand five minutes of whatever it says from Castle. 

And she doesn’t even care if she forfeits the game because she’s sure even the slightest pressure will break her apart. “Lose the shirt,” she orders, “and the boxers, I won both turns with a higher roll.” Kate explains flipping over the first card from the deck of adult fantasy cards she had been given by Maddie as a joke, eyes lingering on the magnificent display of Castle’s ass and erect penis as it curves towards his stomach. “Blindfold your partner, and stimulate the body part of your choosing with a feather,” Kate reads, hoping he hasn’t picked up on the tremor in her voice as his shirt joins the pile of clothing on the floor. 

“Kinky,” he says without missing a beat, one bicep flexing to hold his weight so Castle can easily root around in the plastic tub. He comes up with the feather and the black blindfold easily enough, scooting around to kneel on either side of Kate with a grin, nudging her mouth towards his for a sloppy kiss as he secures the blindfold around her eyes. Even kneeling above her, he can feel the tension radiating from her body, as well as the effort she makes to roll her pelvis into his though his legs have effectively pinned her to the floor. 

“Katherine Beckett, stop fighting,” he admonishes her lightly, mouth grazing over the ridge of her sternum, tongue swiping over the puckered scar tissue until her bra has unclasped in his hand and lies on the floor. 

She’s whimpering within seconds, the light graze of the feather between her breasts just enough sensation to arrow straight between her legs. The timer is clicking again, steady beats that go slower than her heart rate as the tip of the thing swirls in a circle around the edge of her left breast, the tickle and scratch pulling a gasps from her throat. 

What she needs is friction, something to rock her hips against, but Castle is smart about avoiding her need. He stays up on his knees, legs trapping her own, keeping even the warm cavern of his mouth is desperately out of reach. “Castle….” she doesn’t even care that her voice is little more than a desperate whine, a moan following the words when the feather takes a sharp line to her nipple, repeatedly flicking over the tip with enough pressure that Kate drops her head and moans his name for a different reason. 

“Good, huh? Castle asks, voice dripping with want. And its not on accident because for as desperate as she is for release, he’s desperate to give it to her. But he won’t because there’s something intoxicating about this game, with the complete abandon that he can drive the woman in front of him too with nothing more than a timer and a few well placed rolls of dice. Kate’s always been open and confident with both her sexuality and their exploits but its so rare that he gets to work her up, build and build the anticipation and need until they both crackle with it. 

There are reasons this game is burned into his memory. Watching Kate writhing and arching against him, all but begging, is merely one of them.

With one end of the feather in each hand, he adopts a different tactic. Tiny sensations give way to the even scrape of the feather, the delicate white thing twisting across the hard button of her nipple until she’s panting his name, breathless scraps of a cry that before long have his hips unconsciously rocking against Kate’s torso, voicing his own small grunt of encouragement while he works the feather back and forth between her breasts. 

It’s almost unbearable. Kate can fee the wetness of her arousal coating her thighs, the hum of need firing through her veins, the complete desperation that crests and falls with the sensations that radiate from between her thighs to the rest of her body. She’s so close, her body never really having time to lose that urge for release and instead being left to simmer. 

But now she’s boiling hot, her chest straining towards the heat of Castle’s hands and the tickle of the feather, hips fighting and jerking for any sort of leverage that will give her fulfillment. 

When he twists the feather around her nipple, her whole body convulses, nerves firing in what feels like a small orgasm that makes her sob. But it doesn’t ease the ache, just intensifies, leaving her helplessly clutching at the man hovering over her, a breath away from begging. 

She doesn’t even notice when the timer sounds, coming back to reality when Castle’s body heat leaves her side and the blindfold is removed. There’s some consolation that he looks as ravaged as she feels, that his erection is bobbing at attention and leaking fluid as he takes a seat back on his side of the table, grunting at the scrape of his hand against the tip.

Castle’s praying for an eight when he rolls the dice, desperate for a railroad. Instead, his dog piece moves to rest beside Beckett’s, housed at the Community Chest. He isn’t sure if he wants to cry from disappointment or relief. 

“You have an oral fix,” he reads from the card, swallowing roughly when Kate grins because, really, she kind of does, “Utilize it on your partner.” 

The shout he gives a moment later is one of bliss, Castle’s head falling back against the upholstered armchair when Kate crawls forward, mouth immediately wrapping around the head of his cock. Even kneeling above him he can feel how wet her shorts are, smell her scent, feel the ends of her hair tickling the coarse hair on his pelvis, and its only biting against a fisted hand that he doesn’t lose it right then. She’s licking him like her life depends on it, undoubtedly as punishment for allowing her to be so close for so long, and her fingers are digging into his thighs with enough force that there will be bruises. 

But he doesn’t care. He can’t care, can’t think, can’t do anything but hold on when her tongue rolls across his head, licking the moisture like its her favorite ice cream. A moment later his tip has disappeared into the slick heat of her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out and mouth pursing forward with a suck that has his eyes falling closed. 

“Kate, fuck,” he swears, gripping the back of her head to hold her in place, groaning at the dark chuckle that slithers out of her mouth and across his skin. She’s pulled him halfway into her mouth before he can even think, eyes burning with fire when she glances at him from under hooded lashes, waves of her hair bobbing in time with her head as she works him over. 

And its so good, the combination of her mouth and her hands, the satisfied little moan she gives when her hips grind against his leg. but it pales to compare when her teeth graze the sensitive skin of his head, just enough pressure that its a rush of excitement than fear. And the repeated move has him swearing profusely, using the last of his restraint not to buck his hips into her mouth. 

But Kate knows, she reads him perfectly, using her hands to nudge his hips to indicate that he can gently thrust into that slick cavern of her mouth. After that, he’s gone. Two more pulls of her mouth, three jerks of his hips and the pressure breaks. He’s lost to a white hot haze of release, almost hoarse as he cries out repeated shouts of her name, choice swears, and a bunch of complete nonsense while his partner remains on her knees, drinking every bit of what he gives. 

Castle has no idea how long it takes him to float back to earth, but he opens his eyes to find Kate still hovering over him, hips rolling furiously as her fingers work under her shorts. She’s got her lips pressed tightly together to trap any sound, her left hand gripping the edge of the chair, and her eyes closed, unaware of his watching her. 

She’s beautiful, like a lioness with her messy hair and swollen lips, completely untamed. He can feel his body reacting as if it hadn’t just had a mind-blowing orgasm, already craving the feel of Kate against him, around him, the two of them pushing one another to the peak and beyond. But, first, she’s searching for it alone, her body losing what little rhythm it had gathered as she releases a grunt and then a moan that grows steadily in volume when he leans forward, latches onto her left breast, teeth pulling at the sensitive peak. 

Kate’s hips move in earnest then, bucking wildly as Castle shoves away the fabric, nudging his fingers to replace her own. And he inserts two in one go, smiling as her whole body jerks in pleasure, “Ah, fuck, Castle,” she’s gasping, wet fingers gripping at his shoulder until he captures it with his mouth, tongue running against the tips, cleaning them for the second time that night in a perfect imitation of what he’d do if it were his mouth instead of his fingers. 

And she knows it, the sharp suck of air, the hungry moan that rips from her throat when he adds a third finger, managing three quick strokes before he curls them inside her and Kate lets out a shriek, So he does it again, grinning wide when she follows it with another swear, muscles knotting together in a moment of suspension before everything finally, deliciously shatters on a broken cry. 

He waits her out, eyes hungry and mouth nibbling across her shoulders while Kate’s body twitches and bucks against the aftershock. Like him, she is slow to recover, breath still labored when her eyes finally open and she gives him a smile, completely sated though he knows from experience that rubbing herself off won’t be enough, merely a warm up. And even if he didn’t, the challenge is right there in the glint of her eyes. 

“So,” Kate breaths, withdrawing her hand from her clit, wiping the fluid against the printed backdrop of tiny black and white elephants, “I believe it’s my turn?” she purrs at him, swiping the dice from the board and dropping them back with in one fluid move though her eyes never leave his. 

Two spaces. Short Line Railroad. 

“Hmm, gonna take me for a ride, Castle?” she asks, exchanging fake money for the cardboard deed before he has his hands around her waist, dropping her into his lap halfway between their respective sides of the board. 

Game on.


End file.
